


Pillow Talk

by Charlie572



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Currently this is a one chapter fluffy fic, I may write an angsty chapter, Is this too many tags, M/M, No Smut, Other, Tagged as m/m and other because I'm not sure what Gabe's gender is, but for now this is extra fluffy goodness, but some seem more male and others more female, does that stop me?, gabe and sam are their canonical ages, if warnings need to change they will, mostly this is a testament to Sam and his character, no, no awkwardness, or may post that as a different work, or maybe I'll spend the rest of my life thinking of angst and never actually writing it, pretty sure angels are nb?, probably, sam winchester ships destiel, so idk?, some brief cursing, that's incredibly brief tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 05:08:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14205741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie572/pseuds/Charlie572
Summary: Sam and Gabe share a bed. Sam sleeps. Gabe doesn't. Fluffy goodness with a side of tribute to Sam Winchester's strength.





	Pillow Talk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArchieWrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchieWrites/gifts).



> Critiques are always welcome, as long as you're critiquing my stylistic choices and overall writing style and not my pairings. :D Give me tips! Things you liked! Things you didn't like! This isn't beta read, so if i missed something or repeated lines let me know!
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> This is a birthday present for platonicallywrites! Happy womb evacuation day!!! Thank you so much for being such an awesome friend--you've encouraged me to write more, and especially more about Sam. Enjoy this dialogue study--it's not necessarily in character, but it's very soft. <3

Sam talks in his sleep. 

A lot. 

Sometimes he makes sense; random variations of “So get this!” precedes mismatched snippets of lore from the last couple weeks’ hunts. Sometimes he talks about old prom dates, or math equations, or his thoughts on string theory. 

Once, he slapped Gabriel in the face and then delivered a sleep-slurred monologue about how his brother and Cas should “ge’ their heads out of…each other’ sasses an’ jus, fuck.”

This went on for almost a half hour, and Gabriel was surprised his laughter didn’t wake Sam up. The kid’s a sound sleeper.

At some point Gabe figures out Sam can not only speak, but hold full conversations without ever waking up. That’s when the archangel’s sleepless nights get WAY less boring.

“Gotta go to th’ store.”

“The store? Alright Sam, let’s go to the store.” A sleepy Sam has a tendency to get distracted; Gabe’s found that simple sentences with lots of repetition keep the dream focused. 

“We’re goin’ t’ th’ store.”

“Yeah Sammy, I’m going with you to the store. What are we buying?” Sam’s lying on his back, mostly, with his head cradled on Gabriel’s chest as the archangel reclines against the pillows and strokes Sam’s hair.

“We’re at th’ store. S’able neh ah, huhh…” Sam sighs deeply, and when he doesn’t continue Gabe wonders if the dream’s over. 

“Yeah Sam, we’re at the store.” Gabe’s thumb drifts absently against Sam’s temple. After a moment, Sam swallows and shifts slightly in his sleep.

“Said we need a bicycle.” 

“A bicycle? Are you gonna buy a bicycle at the store, Samshine?” As much as John moved the boys around, it’s a miracle Sam even knows how to ride a bike. Who taught him? Did a ten year old Dean steal a set of wheels and teach them both? The more he thinks about it, the more curious it is. Sam doesn’t usually remember his dreams, if he sleeps through them, so Gabe resolves to ask him about his bike-riding capabilities when he wakes up. 

“…gonna ride a bicycle…” 

“The bicycle that we got at the store?” Sam huffs in his sleep.

“I’s a nice…” Sam stops. His jaw goes slack and a muscle in his forehead relaxes.

“Is it a nice bicycle Sam?” Sam huffs again, not answering.

“What color is it? Red? Blue?” Gabriel winces. He’s probably asked too many questions for Sam’s sleep-addled brain to process. He waits for Sam to continue.

“No…,” Sam’s lips move a little, but no sound comes out.

“What color bike did you get at the store, Sam?” 

“…ridin’ grrEen bicycle…” 

“You’re riding a green bicycle? Where are you riding, Sam?” Sam’s brow furrows at that. Gabe takes it to mean the dream logic didn’t cover that. 

“Say, Sammy, when’d you learn to ride a bike?” It’s four in the morning. and Gabe’s thoughts are poor company. Sue him if he uses his boyfriend’s weird dreams about grocery stores and bicycles for his entertainment. 

“You…” Sam sighs again, furrowing his brow.

“You taught,” Sam’s head tilts, “me.”

“I taught you how to ride a bike?”

“You taught me,” Sam says, with more certainty. “You’r a gr…” Sam yawns, and Gabe thinks he’s falling back into a deep sleep. But a moment later he continues the thought, speech slow and muddled. “You’re a gr…great…teacher. Gabe.” Sam snuggles deeper into Gabriel’s chest, face going slack. He takes a few deep, steady breaths. Gabe chuckles.

“Man, you are going to LOVE hearing about this in the morning.” Sam mumbles something unintelligible, maybe an “mm-hmm”, but maybe not. Gabe watches as sleep swallows up the remnants of Sam’s dream, leaving him relaxed and calm.

Sam doesn’t look younger when he sleeps. There’s something about his eyes; even when closed, they betray the depths of evil Sam’s fought, the weight of the pain he carries. But in moments like these, with his head pillowed on Gabriel’s chest, the details of Sam’s life seem to blur and collapse in on each other. Gabe has never, ever seen Sam look unburdened. But, for now at least, he looks present. The weight of purpose on Sam’s shoulders, the hopes of Hell and the scorn of Heaven, heaped upon him from his childhood, seems to take a backseat to his present needs. When Sam sleeps, creation takes a moment to breathe, to collect itself into some semblance of order. 

A final sigh passes through Sam’s lips, and Gabe cards fingers through Sam's hair as his breathing finally evens out.

“Goodnight, Sam.”


End file.
